The Return and Rise of the Mosquito Girl
by Eduard Kassel
Summary: After surviving an epic smack, the Mosquito Girl is back. But her return is not quite as she was, and her future is about as clear as fuzz. So directed away from causing strife, she is sent to find a new track in life. Knowing little she seizes a new place, leaving the recipient wheezing in the face. Starting with such a weird bend, who can really say how it could end? AU
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own One Punch Man.

_Betaed by:_ Zim'smostloyalservant and Trackula

* * *

The Return and Rise of the Mosquito Girl

**Chapter 1**

_The Return_

Pain, that horrid sensation, pulled her to consciousness. The Mosquito Girl opened her eyes, an act whose difficulty and necessity informed her further something was wrong. The moment she regained consciousness, her compound eyes should have begun providing data on her surroundings. But it was absent.

And her glorious sense of smell was drenched in blood. Not the alluring promise of food and power, it was the stench of her own blood that should have brought anything from wariness to panic. But it was too painful to react so frantically. So, blinking, trying to banish the white glare dominating her sight, the Mosquito Girl tried to take stock of her situation.

When her vision resolved itself enough to see an acceptable distance, she could tell she was in an earthen crater, her face tilted to the side. Righting her face to look down at herself, she nearly passed out as the sight seemed to double her pain.

Broken, her body was broken. That was her situation. Her exoskeleton was cracked, deeply and pervasively. And the limbs themselves were twisted, her left arm the best off as it was only visibly broken in one place. As she forced her sense of touch into more focus, she found the top of her head was ravaged and her wings and abdomen were simply gone.

'What hit me!?' she wondered with horror. The cyborg? He had seemed beaten though, at her mercy. But her education, such as it was, had warned that a cornered prey could be the most dangerous.

But it was not important now. She was alive, so the victor either had not bothered to finish her; or had made a reasonable assumption she was dead.

Her gorged mode included hyper-regeneration; her guess was that the effect had held on long enough to prevent terminal injuries taking its course. But while stable, to put it generously, her blood sack was gone and she could not hope to hunt or call a swarm like this. Her tracking unit was in her blood sack, so the House of Evolution either thought she was dead or could not locate her. It could only be assumed she was on her own in this situation.

Mosquito Girl didn't want to die. Her four years of life was a short one, mostly spent in labs being tested, measured, and trained to various degrees. That she was valued as more than a piece of the Doctor's ambitions was a lie she had not been told. Her existence was a stepping stone and tool to the eventual rise of a New Humanity to replace the old. Her reward was the work, that she had been taught to enjoy beyond any thought of morality or fairness. So long as she did her job thinning the herd of humanity and testing its defenses, she would be cherished in the Doctor's way.

Failure had never quite crossed her mind, much less dying like one of those humans. The knowledge she would simply be labeled a failure and her defeat a simple event to be studied… it hurt beyond her wounds. But death was the greatest failure, it meant the disgrace could never be made right.

She had one last resort to make up failing her creator. The Chrysalis.

Unlike a blood power up, or a sugar power up, this hibernating state would use what was in her body already to regenerate vital systems. But it was supposed to be built up to by taking in blood, or at least sugar. She had less blood than ever now, with her sac destroyed. And she was supposed to bury herself for protection during the process. She was too weak to get any sustenance, and too weak to dig, much less bury herself.

Looking around, she spotted a large hollowed log that had fallen into her impact crater at some point. As shelter went, it was poor at best. But better than nothing.

With her least broken arm, she dragged herself across the ground toward it. She hissed with frustration when part of her right leg caught on something, stopping her until a piece of carapace popped off, freeing her but making her bleed again. Hauling herself into the log and out of sight, she slumped, breathing hard.

Even with this, she admitted, death was the most likely outcome. But there was no other option except to simply accept death and failure.

Willing her body to start secreting the substance that would form the chrysalis, Mosquito Girl let the pain slip away alongside her consciousness. Warmth awaited, threaded with ideas of food and soft resting places.

Unseen by the world, the experimental woman slipped away into dreams.

_Months Later:_

She awoke to confinement. Hardly able to move. Murky thoughts lacking memory, her first impulse was to break free, so she did. The log cracked under the first blows and exploded under the second.

The chrysalis was left amidst the debris, its pale gray stickiness coated with splinters and mulch, the shape of limbs pressing against it, but not breaking through. Then the struggles seemed to subside, and a single lump leaned back while pressing against the membrane.

Her proboscis shot out, piercing the membrane like a spear. With a jerk, her head burst though and she took a deep relieved breath. Blinking, she looked around, the sensation of the wind, the cooler temperature, and the ready air letting her mind calm.

Memory returned, facts falling into place as if the oxygen was blowing away the dust on page to reveal the words, and she smiled; she had survived! But the smile slipped as she realized something felt… off.

Wiggling her shoulders out the hole, she freed her arms and realized her body had not regenerated properly. Frowning, she freed herself fully to stand on wobbly legs by the chrysalis, balance aided by her wings' occasional buzzing. Going on her knees, she frowned and sliced the sac open fully with her diminished claws.

The husk was mostly destroyed, to her surprise. The data implanted in her expected it to be like her few growth husks, a hard, nearly-calcified remnant slit neatly on a seam that could practically be glued back together as a statue. What was left now was more like thick paper; had she not known what it was, she may have not been able to piece it together in her mind.

Clearly, her body had been pushed to use absolutely anything to see this failed regeneration through.

Sitting down, Mosquito Girl frowned and called out. A modest swarm quickly answered, flying around her. But when she signaled them to kill and supply her, they simply meandered in confusion. Of course the company was nice for her and them, but…

Her abilities were diminished!

Feeling the top of her head confirmed her secondary eyes were gone too. She had more hair, and what wasn't covered was smooth carapace on her dome. And she was smaller.

This was not good. She had been defeated at her highest power and now she was crippled even after hibernation.

Detecting movement, she spotted a deer peeking though the brush.

**X X X**

Weakened but not inept, she thought with a smile, licking the last of the deer blood off her fingers. She stood amidst the trees, deer corpses and a few birds littering the forest floor.

She was still fast and could fly agilely enough to maneuver between trees to chase down those made to live here. And her claws and proboscis, if reduced, still did their jobs.

Stiffness she had not noticed left as she gorged on blood, but no sensation of her body swelling or otherwise remedying its current flaws. But something did seem to snap back into place. The Doctor, as a precaution against him being arrested and imprisoned, had implanted a homing instinct in some of his creations that would lead them to him. She could sense him now, understanding what direction he laid in as clearly as if an arrow had been drawn in the sky.

Perfect, she could return and be fixed by her creator. Assuming he forgave her failure, of course.

**X X X**

Dr. Genus did not look it, but he was an old man. He'd been seventy and aged conventionally up to that point when he made the breakthrough that would lead to him restoring his youth. But being returned to his physical prime did not quite make him young again. Oh, his brain chemistry was humming along like a man in his prime, but he was still informed and filled by the experience of growing old and seeing the world change etc.

Though in many ways, his self-help books had revealed, he had in fact failed to mature emotionally, a childish resentment to the human race not measuring up to his standards driving him for so long. Likely rooted in feelings of insecurity over his own inability to relate and interact well with others.

In short, he had been through a lot of things over a lot of years. And he didn't have some cliche opinion of having seen it all — the world he lived in was quite literally a world where new wonders, but more often horrors, rose up on a regular basis to make a terrible mess. In fact, he'd made quite a few of those horrors and messes in his day.

So he wasn't surprised to be surprised anymore. Especially after the baldie.

Still, this one he had not seen coming. The Mosquito Girl was back, apparently?

At first, when she crawled in through a window as he and Armored Gorilla had been finishing up dry walling the closet in their kitchen, he had screamed, thinking some new monster had come for him. Armored Gorilla, the faithful servant — no, friend, he needed to remember the eight steps — moving to defend. But she had made her case, and he was inclined to believe it. With the House of Evolution gone, only he and the Mosquito Girl would know what she knew.

Still, what a sight, he thought, adjusting his glasses as he reclined in his chair.

She had gotten smaller. No, more than that, she seemed to have regressed to a prepubescent stage that had never existed outside the tube. Her shape, while still holding a certain feminine one, was definitely pre-development. Her limbs were shorter and more compact; it seemed the flawed regeneration had erred more to the human side there, her two fingers/claws/toes joined by similar thumbs. Her compound eyes were gone entirely; he would guess with the overall reduction in mass her body had sacrificed certain secondary systems to create a viable lifeform.

Despite everything, he had a certain urge to strap her down and start cutting and testing to see just how she worked now and retrace the steps of evolution to understand this better. But it was easily dismissed. After all, this unexpected survival and mutation was another case of his expectations of life being shaken.

And, well… she was looking at him with what he could only categorize as adorable apology in her big eyes. It was actually making him feel guilty for sending her out as a sacrificial pawn back then.

Hmm, was cuteness a power he had overlooked? Yes, that was it, she was cute now, a bit like that chibi icon of her one of the clones had designed before he was melted in that lab accident with the tuna.

"So, can I have some blood? I haven't had any human blood since the attack," she asked, all while making an adorable face with her eyes. Hmm, it was both horrifying and cute; yes, this could be dangerous. And not because for the first time in decades he actually had no bags of human blood on hand to offer anyone.

"Much changed while you were hibernating. The House of Evolution is no more…" he began recounting. Both the mysterious naked bald man who swatted her, and how that same man, now wearing a yellow and red super outfit, had defeated Karnage Kabuto. All without any cybernetics, mutations or genetic enhancements.

No, he had attained god-like power by working out! It made no sense at the time, and had prompted Genus to abandon his quest to drag the world down the path of artificial evolution. Seeing this evidence of how little he truly understood anything, the Doctor decided his initial hypothesis had been flawed. Rather than changing the world to fit his intellect, he would find a way for his intellect to change to fit into the world.

Hence his current project of finding a way to make sustainable fried food with a hyper-regenerating octopus to supply all the meat for their teriyaki stand. Immortality benefit, you could afford to start small and work your way up.

All his creations except Armored Gorilla were dead, and even after being repaired he had opted to stay with his maker. So now they both worked here, distributing unhealthy food to the masses.

"I get it! THIS IS A TEST! You want to know if I will remain loyal even if you wimped out and gave up on your life's work, or if I would decide you're not worthy and kill you to do it myself, like that jerk Kabuto said he would one day," she cheerfully remarked, smirking as she pointed a finger at him.

"Uh, no. That's not it at all," Genus answered. He looked to Armored Gorilla standing in the doorway watching, but the cybernetic ape just shrugged, looking quite baffled himself.

"Riiight," Mosquito Girl said, winking twice. Genus ran his hands through his hair — he had expected to have trouble convincing law enforcement or maybe any lingering creations like Zombieman of his reform to avoid retribution. He had not considered some kind of loyalty from a creation being an obstacle.

"Uhm, Armored Gorilla, why don't you get her something to drink? Something high in sugar since there is no blood," Genus decided to stall for time while his brilliant mind concocted a plan.

"So, what can I do for you while you're 'retired'," she asked, crawling onto the table on all fours to look at him from that angle.

"Please don't make air quotes, it's undignified," he muttered. It was a fair question, though; he supposed he was somewhat responsible for her. He had never expected his creations to function in society — Armored Gorilla had been engineered with mental stability and health as a goal, leaving combat power to cyberization after Karnage Kabuto and to a lesser extent Beast King proved unreliable in either obedience or following orders when worked up to any degree. The Mosquito Girl line was straight-up combat, conditioned mentally to regard any human that wasn't Genus as little more than a food supply or a threat.

With all his creations gone, he had expected a clean slate going forward, without having to deal with the fallout of his old conditioning process. This was a most unexpected variable.

Though Genus had a theory, which if true might mean the conditioning would not be nearly as much an obstacle as he-

The genius' thoughts were interrupted, because Armored Gorilla had returned and opened a can of Hill Dew and handed it to Mosquito Girl, who after a wary sniff took a sip.

_Eleven Minutes Later:_

Doctor Genus stood across the street from his wrecked stand, glasses askew, hair messed up, and jaw hanging slack. Armored Gorilla stood next to him, looking quite tired, with a nosebleed and minus his left arm. Atop the wrecked stand's roof, the Mosquito Girl had settled to nap, cuddled up with Armored Gorilla's missing arm like it was a plushy.

"I think, I have an idea," Genus said to no one in particular.

"Never ever give her caffeine?" Armored Gorilla asked.

"That too," Genus nodded.

_Later:_

Mosquito Girl blinked as she was handed the bee-themed purse, standing in the back alley of the wrecked stand. Genus, having somewhat sorted himself out, stood before her carrying a portion of the dignity he had held as the master of the House of Evolution.

"Right, here are your orders. You will go out into this world in peace. Get adopted by some human who isn't me. You will live a life to earn humanity's love and respect, so you can live happily ever after or something. And you will never drink anything with caffeine in it. And remember, don't contact me, I'll contact you," Genus commanded. Armored Gorilla leaned against the wall, rolling his eyes, while the Mosquito Girl saluted.

"Can I be powerful as well as respected and loved? Holding power over the weak humans with my awesome if smaller power?" she asked.

"Sure, why not. But remember, if anyone asks, I am reformed and told you to do the same," he pressed.

"Riiiight!" she said, winking and pointing. With a forced smile, the doctor returned the gesture.

"Now, you have a good amount of money in there, and a toothbrush and paste. Also a bottle of shampoo. So you're ready to go, find your place in this world, that isn't here!" Genus cheered with an edge of delirium.

"As you command, Doctor. Long live the House of Evolution! If it hadn't been disbanded because you have reformed into a model citizen of this stagnant society."

And with that, she was gone, buzzing off into the night. Genus slammed the door shut, and sagged down into a metal folding chair against the wall.

"We'll need to put up the closed for repair sign," he told Armored Gorilla.

"Was it really fitting with your reforming to basically abandon her like that?" Armored Gorilla asked as he pulled a bottle out of a cabinet and poured himself a stiff drink.

"What can I say? What can a man in the midst of a great change be if not a hypocrite from time to time as he tries to find his new self and role while leaving the old behind? As a father figure, I would be expected to guide her in things I myself am stumbling through. There is no sense in the blind leading the blind. Better to roll the dice of fate than choose a formula for mutual failure," the Doctor explained. Armored Gorilla nodded, taking a long sip from his glass.

"Are you're sure you just didn't want to deal with a prepubescent mutant girl, with the future prospect of dealing with a hormonal teenage one?" the cyberized mutant primate asked.

"Possibly! But my original statement remains valid. Besides, compared to you and I, how could she get mixed up in anything weirder out there?" Genus defended himself.

**X X X**

The apartment of the hero King, regarded by the masses as the strongest man in the world and respected even by most S-Class heroes, seemed to be nothing special. A high-rise single, which while not cheap per say, was hardly luxurious. It seemed the type of place a man who was well off but saving for better things might dwell in. Or perhaps a man lower on the chain had gotten at the expense of other things.

The lack of expense or luxury would not surprise his fans. It was well known King spent much of his time not engaged in heroics training in solitude. Their hero was regarded as a figure dedicated to strengthening mind, body and spirit; his lack of excessive interest in a material dwelling place beyond basics would fit their view of him. As for him living fairly anonymously among the people rather than some remote retreat, they would cite his status as a defender of the people. It was only natural he put himself close at hand to better spring into action.

The mess though, that might make them stretch a bit for some noble explanation. King himself would simply state he never saw much point in cleaning unless/until the clutter became an actual problem for his living situation. It would just get cluttered again after all, right?

Truthfully, he liked his apartment, enough that after the Giant Crow destroyed his exterior wall trying to assassinate him, King had chosen to have the place repaired instead of moving. It was his sanctuary, he supposed. The S-Class hero had often been more comfortable with solitude than people, and the immense fame and pressure to fill his role as the seventh-ranked S-Class hero and lauded as the strongest "traditional human" had made socializing so much more strange and stressful. But as the Crow had demonstrated most clearly, even here his status as a hero could intrude on him.

So while annoyed and nervous, King was not surprised when he awoke and realized someone was in his apartment.

It was for times like this he wore pajamas rather than just boxers. Getting up, he walked into the kitchen area, which had the lights on, fully expecting to be greeted by another woman, girl, or man wearing nothing but an apron.

He stopped, surprise freezing stoic on his face. It was a a girl, and she was indeed wearing a plain white apron while pouring a bowl of cereal. But beyond that, expectations were not met in the situation.

"Good morning, hero King," the Mosquito Girl greeted him, "I've decided to adopt you as my dad."

Without a word, King went back to bed, to wait for a dream this weird to pass. He must have played that dating simulator too long, maybe expired noodles also had something to do with this?

**X X X**

Mosquito Girl's antenna twitched as she considered the situation. That was not a response she had planned for. And she had planned for ones that included reflexive attempts on her life.

Hmm, should she study more? Use King's computer or go back to that internet cafe with the rude people?

Nah, she decided it was better to be direct. Had King regarded her as a threat he would have destroyed her. But as expected, he had not. So step one complete!

Waking into the sleeping area, she saw he had indeed gone back to bed. Hmm, should she leap on him? No, a more direct, simple approach would surely impress him, she decided, drawing her proboscis slightly out of her head.

_Shortly_:

Apparently she was stronger than she had thought; she was strong enough to prick the Hero King. Though apparently he had to flail about to avoid a reflexive retaliation that probably would have seen her splattered again. Or had it been an effort to intimidate her, she wondered smiling.

**X X X**

King sat on his bed, looking at the little monster intently. The pain in his butt, which had now become literal, showed this wasn't a dream.

A monster, however small, and possibly insane. Well, actually, most monsters seemed to be dealing with a short deck, but this was a kind of crazy he wasn't familiar with. It was too much even for him to hope Saitama would show up and solve this.

When she perked, he realized the King "Engine" was running.

'Okay, it's just another monster, just deal with it like always, and try not to die,' the Hero King told himself, standing up to loom over her. He walked toward her slowly, giving a menacing air, his face promising death, eyes alight with what might have been bloodlust. All the while, the King Engine hammered a mighty pulse-pounding beat.

She just looked up at him curiously. So he had no choice but to resort to the King Hand!

**X X X**

Mosquito Girl watched with awe and didn't flinch when King put a large hand on her shoulder. He hadn't attacked, so it was clearly a test. After all, despite how great she was, he might not know that. So a little testing was in order, of course.

When nothing happened and his expression changed somehow, she decided she had passed. It was time to make her move! The super finishing move to secure a father if you were female.

**X X X**

The bug monster girl was hugging his leg. She felt… weird, through his pajama pants.

"I think this will work out great, Dad," she told him, looking up. She had cutesy eyes, and was that a faint buzzing?

'…F*ck my life,' King cursed internally.

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**Author's Note:**

_And here we have another arrival from my weird idea pile. While I have some chapters planned and another one rough drafted, I have no overall plan for where this story is going. So its basically using this idea and having some fun with this weird world and its colorful cast; rather than planning some epic tale._

_And so after a year with what I'd call less than satisfying output we close out with a bit of a bang. Hoping to close the book on positive note and open the new one on a hopeful note._

_So, I hope you have a Happy New Year; and if the robot apocalypse does happen, best of luck with that. And its the singularity redefining the world as we know it, I can only hope its still a world where we an create and appreciate fanfiction and other wonderful nonessential pastimes._

_Long days and pleasant nights to all you dear readers!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own One Punch Man.

_Betaed by: _Zim'smostloyalservant & Trackula.

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**Chapter 2**

_What's in a Name?_

King had retreated to the bathroom, the ancient sanctuary of men in crisis. Grabbing his chest, he gasped for air, letting the repressed panic show where no one could see it.

His luck had run out, King thought frantically, he was dead. He was going to die by the mandibles or whatever of some insane monster girl! Even if she didn't want to kill him, if that little wakeup call was any indication, the moron might do it by accident.

At least the so-called King Engine had calmed, actually being his strangely audible heartbeat. Wiping sweat from his brow, he decided while he was here, he might as well actually use the toilet.

What was he going to do?! Because the truth was, that the Hero King, S-Rank Seven, titled the strongest human in the world, was actually weak. He had no super powers or even training. He'd never even been in a brawl! The only real talent or skill he had was video games, both playing and being a hobbyist of making his own.

His reputation was built on bizarre luck, placing him to seem responsible for monsters other people killed and his durability on the same kind of luck saving him from incidents that should have killed him. The Hero Association had recruited him without his desire, citing the need for "someone like him". They had even foregone their usual testing procedures, seeing it as needless in the face of his "achievements". Any confession made to the Association or the public was just dismissed as him being humble or wanting to avoid the spotlight. And what's worse, such efforts usually only seemed to summon circumstances that crushed any sane doubts he might plant.

The Call had dialed a wrong number with the man called King, and it just wouldn't stop!

At this point, he was resigned that this horrid situation would not stop until he was killed by something. Probably get a big statue, for all that would do for a dead man! But maybe that was just selfish — exposing the Hero King as a fraud might send the public into despair and panic. So he was resigned.

But now that death had shown up and made him breakfast, he was willing to disillusion the masses a little, he admitted.

So, what now? He'd gotten good at bluffing in the face of doom. His poker face and bluffing skills had saved his life when luck had been running late many times.

Saitama? No, he'd destroy the apartment. And he'd never let King live this down.

The Hero Association Headquarters! King nodded to himself, getting a bit of composure back. Yes, there would be no shortage of heroes there, able to swat this bug, or if she really was coming in peace, capture her for study or something.

But how to get her to the A City Fortress? It would cause a panic, and worse a media storm, if he just grabbed a taxi there with her. Did the Hero Association transport have a pick-up number? No, if it did he didn't remember it, and finding the right scrap of paper in his flat would take as long, if not more, than just getting there from the start. So, a disguise then? Well, it would need more than his usual cap and jacket for something like this.

Well, first he should find out what that smoke he was smelling was all about.

"…What?!" he exclaimed, flushing and pulling up his pants as he hurried from the porcelain throne.

**X X X**

"How do you start a fire making a PB and J?" King asked the Mosquito Girl, putting aside the fire extinguisher.

"I was following a recipe I got off the internet," she said, pointing a claw to his desktop.

'Okay, first thing, delete my internet history.'

"Never check the internet for vital real world information," he told her.

"But you don't have any cookbooks. That I could find, at least," she said, looking his apartment over with an expression that he would not expect a bug to have to a mess.

King made her the sandwich and said yes to her desire to lick out the jelly jar, while he turned to the internet for salvation once again. Clothes, clothes that could conceal that someone was a bizarre bug monster.

And once again the internet came through for him as it pulled up images and prices. King nodded but did not smile, well aware he was still in danger. He had seen stuff like this before. A religion used this stuff in the old days, and some conservatives still did. It covered everything but the hands and face. So if she keeps her hands tucked in, it might work, he thought.

Order, same day rush delivery, he nearly kills the mouse clicking. A bit pricey, but who cared? He only spent a portion of his hero stipend; he probably was rich if he ever looked at his bank accounts.

Estimated arrival time for one older child-sized however-you-pronounced-that, four hours. Well crap. It was too much to hope she put herself in a sugar coma that long.

What now, to distract her from realizing he was weak and drinking all his precious bodily fluids?

**X X X**

Okay, he had the badminton racket, the contents of his little-used spice rack, and a spool of string. This creativity should keep her occupied, King thought, going to confront the monster.

Only to find her curled, or er, scrunched, up on top of his bed, snoring with her wings folded on her back, buzzing in time with her snores.

"Oh, well, that works," King remarked, setting aside the stuff he had gathered.

_Less Than Four Hours Later:_

When the delivery arrived fifteen minutes early, King gave the delivery guy the best tip of the man's life. Honestly, he had been expecting a drone, but if they could get results like this, who was he to comment?

Now to wake the monster girl up.

**X X X**

She had fallen asleep on the bed. Her intention had been to make it; it seemed the kind of thing one should do. It had proven far more difficult than expected. Then she had climbed on it to attack the problem from a different angle.

It was like eating candy with her sense of touch. Unlike the cement floors or hard plastic slabs she was used to from sleeping in the House of Evolution, the bed was like it was made for sleeping. Her willpower to see her task through to the end raged against it, but the siren allure of the mattress and other layers of comfortableness was not to be denied. The Mosquito Girl could only admit defeat, falling into a cozy haze, the unmade bed having triumphed over her mighty will with its unconquerable comfyness.

Then she was poked with a stick. Naturally, she buzzed angrily and sheared it off with a swipe of her claws, raising her head, teeth bared to see who dared disturb her wonderful slumber.

Oh, it was her new dad, she realized, holding a broom with a severed handle and a box.

"…Put this on. We are leaving," King said, glaring at her with awesome aura. He tossed the box, which she caught, still sitting on the bed.

It seemed something was happening. Let my new life begin, she proclaimed internally!

**X X X**

'The monster girl complied easily enough, didn't even notice my heart skipping a beat when she murdered the broom I just rediscovered. I have a vacuum, why do I even have an old-timey broom? Is there a dust pan hiding somewhere in here?' King wondered.

King was roused from his thoughts when a buzzing started, angry buzzing. Was she a mosquito or a bee?

He turned his attention to see… well, he wasn't sure. A few seconds and he decided she had somehow tied herself up putting that thing on. Well, failing to put it on. Hadn't someone said these things were oppressive to women? Well, he didn't think this was what they were talking about, even if they had.

"A little help? I don't want to wreck a present I just got," the monster asked, looking at him with a small flush in her cheeks like an embarrassed kid.

He did not want to get close, but it was clear she could just tear out if she wanted. He needed a distraction, he needed to BS.

"I will check the internet for instructions on how to wear that. If by the time I find them you haven't gotten yourself out, I will assist you," he said stoically.

"…I see, a test. I will not let you down!" she declared. He wished there was a door he could close going to the computer. Just stick with the plan, he assured himself. This was clearly not one of the smart monsters. Unless she was acting stupid, or at least really weird, to lull him into a false sense of security.

**X X X**

Somehow King got her dressed up in that robe thing without having to touch her. And now they were walking down the sidewalk, with her just in front and to the right of him. She seemed eager, gazing at stuff and people intently, only to then back off, almost bumping into him several times.

What was her deal? It wasn't like she'd never been on a sidewalk before.

Oh. Yeah, being able to fly she probably didn't have much pedestrian experience. Forgetting what she was for a second, he reached out and grabbed her shoulder when she almost walked into the street when the signal changed.

Her looking up at him curiously snapped reality back into place, and he pulled his hand back like it had been burned and looked away.

He was wearing his usual "disguise" of a jacket and one of his more generic ball caps. The goal with it was to not be noticed, but that as he could see wasn't working so well with the disguise he had picked for the monster. Sure, it let her pass for human, but it did stick out, and the last thing he wanted was people looking twice.

Him getting mobbed by fans, even briefly, might set her off. He's told her not to drink any human's blood, but he had no way to hold her to that, of course. He was running around with a bomb whose fuse had been lit, and had no idea how to get rid of it.

'Okay, it's working well enough, now for step 2. Get to Hero Association Headquarters. Taxi, or bus?' he thought.

"PUNY HUMANS! BEHOLD AND COWER BEFORE THE MIGHTY BOOKWYRM!" A nasally voice roared thunderously. King closed his eyes and sighed. Of course, of course he thought, turning his head to see an orange dragon with a fat body and a very long neck, and wearing glasses on its elongated face of all things, rear up.

"MY DEMANDS ARE SINGULAR AND SOLITARY! I CRAVE BOOKS! GIVE ME A BOOK TO EAT OR I WILL EAT YOU! SO IS THE JUSTICE OF BOOKWYRM!"

King turned to walk away, pulling his cap down further. If he was any judge, and he was having had to deal with monsters, this one was the type to monologue, and probably not too strong. So with any luck, it would get caught up in some origin or motive rant and a real hero would arrive and take care of it before anyone died. He wasn't going to make the situation worse by throwing another monster into the mash.

Preoccupied with justifying fleeing the scene, he failed to notice the Mosquito Girl was not following him, tilting her head and looking back and forth between him and Bookwyrm.

**X X X**

What was going on here, she wondered, tugging at the annoying robe she was wearing. This monster didn't smell very strong. A hero of her father's class should be able to take it out in like, one punch or something.

But he was leaving?

"Will you take my tablet instead?! You can read books on it!" A panicking chubby twenty-something woman pleaded as the monster glared down at her.

"NO! YOU CAN READ WORDS ON IT!"

"How about a newspaper!?"

"NOT A BOOK!"

"My Flex Masters magazine?!"

"NO! I ASKED FOR BOOKS!"

"You have a very narrow definition of books, grandpa," some douche-looking guy with a pale fat face wearing all black snickered, standing near her.

The monster apparently had very good hearing, because it glared at the guy, swinging its head around to stretch its neck over the crowd and loom over him.

"WRONG! IT IS YOU WHO HAVE FORGOTTEN, YOU TREND SHEEP MORONS!" Bookwyrm roared.

"Oh come on! It's not like anyone cares about real books anymore anyway! Get with the times already!" the terrified douche whined up at the monster.

"Wow, you are dumb," Mosquito Girl said to the guy, taking a step back as the Bookwyrm opened its mouth and reared back, and back, and baaack.

'That's a really, really long neck!' the Mosquito Girl thought.

Wait, she realized what was happening!

This was a test! A test of heroism. Would she act like a hero when asked, or when it was called for? Her father King was seeing whether she was serious or just buzzing about the idea.

Well alright then, she accepted the challenge of King to prove her heroic mettle!

Bookwyrm's head snapped forward, descending like a demented teeter-totter with scales, teeth, and round glasses. But when he struck the sidewalk pavement, he realized he had only a mouthful of pavement. Spitting out the debris, the monster looked around, wondering if he had missed again.

Then he realized he hadn't. It seemed to all that an ethnic/religious minority member had tackled his next victim out of the way.

"FOOLISH CHILD! YOU THINK THAT MAKES ANY DIFFERENCE? MY DETERMINATION IS UNBREAKABLE. I BECAME BOOKWYRM BECAUSE I READ BOOKS BEFORE ALL ELSE, BEFORE EATING, BEFORE SLEEPING, BEFORE BATHING AND GOING TO THE TOILET. MY DEDICATION ALONG WITH MY HATRED TOWARD MY SO-CALLED FELLOW MAN TRANSFORMED ME INTO A MONSTER THAT CAN SUBSIST SOLELY ON WHAT I LOVE AND WHAT I HATE!" the dragon declared, shifting his pudgy body to face her.

The girl glared and ripped away her robes, spreading her wings.

"WHAT?!" the monster and humans exclaimed.

"I think you dislocated something!" the man she saved said, sitting up and using his phone to take a picture. The Mosquito Girl in one motion plucked the phone from his hand and smacked him over the head with it, breaking the phone.

"Well, I'm the daughter of King, taking down my first monster! Top that," she boasted, one hand on her waist, the other pointing to where King had stopped to look back.

The crowd and monster made a sounds that might have been "what!?".

"Here I go!" she shouted, launching from the pavement and shooting under the long neck, her proboscis shooting out of its sheath. She grinned as she penetrated the fat scaly gut of the monster.

'Easy! He never said anything about monster blouhhhhagghh!' she thought, her expression turning horrified as she kicked clear of the monster.

"GRAAH! HOW DARE YOU BESMIRCH MY MIGHTY FORM SO!" Bookwyrm screamed as he thrashed about, the civilians seeming to finally realize they had legs to run with.

"Ohhhh! My poor tummy," Mosquito Girl groaned, landing on top of a streetlight. Perched there, she held her stomach with one hand and wiped black liquid off her proboscis with the other.

"You!" she shrieked at the monster, pointing a clawed finger, "Your blood tastes terrible! I think I just threw up a little in my mouth! You should be ashamed! What loser fails at blood?!"

"YOU TWIT TWERP! YOU'RE BLAMING ME WHEN YOU TRIED TO DINE ON MY BLOOD!?"

"Yes!" she shrieked.

"GRRR! TO THINK A MONSTER COULD ANGER ME MORE THAN HUMANS! I WILL-" his rant was cut short as she dive-bombed from her perch and drove her left leg through his right eye up to her knee.

"Gross, just die!" she snapped, pulling her foot out and smacking the head down into the pavement with her other heel.

The monster collapsed as she tried futilely to kick the black gunk off her leg. Spotting King standing nearby with the not quite dispersed crowd, she landed in front of him, holding her filthy leg slightly off the ground.

"Daaad, do you have any of those moist wipes?" she whined.

King sweated a bit, glancing from the monster to the people who were snapping pictures of the stupid orange dragon. The monster girl, him, him and the monster girl, and already furious texting.

The internet had this story. What fresh new hell would it make from this?!

King sprang for a cab after that. Getting rid of the crowd was as easy as ever. Intimidation and admiration meant they were quick to make way, and the monster girl kept close after the crowd had gotten curious after her seeming to not be a threat.

A genuine monster hero? Zombieman had always been ambiguous. And King's "daughter"? There were questions they wanted answers to, with pictures and even selfies to take. The little monster flapping her wings rapidly and making a buzzing noise as they started to swarm around her did not seem to awaken any survival instinct in the crowd.

So when the cab arrived and he told her to come and the others to back off, they did.

The fat cabbie did not look happy in the rear view mirror. A hero and a monster in his cab. This was the kind of weird crap where civilians ended up statistics. So when he told the guy to take them to Hero Association HQ, he kind of floored it. Only for a red light to stop them about ten seconds later.

"I think they like me!" the Mosquito Girl cheered, buckled into her seat and pumping fists.

**X X X**

The cab driver made good time, all things considered, but for King it might have been the longest ride in a cab of his life.

With his phone, he watched the social media disaster unfold. Mosquito Princess was already trending. And the King fan forums were either churning out threads by the minute or had crashed.

From what he could tell, the shipping community had particularly come out in all of its insane and horrifying force. Tragic tales of him and an undisclosed mother. One had him loving a woman in secret and her being abducted and transformed into a monster, specifically the mosquito monster Genos killed awhile back. With King killing the mad scientist responsible but discovering a clone of his mutated lover who he spared to raise as the last thing he had left of her.

Another had him in a star-crossed relationship with a mosquito monster woman; yikes.

And his own DNA spliced with a mosquito and no Y chromosomes, because of reasons.

The list went on, including aliens, ancient gods of the north and everything in-between. Oh, and actually his great-granddaughter from the future… huh, well at least that one was less squicky, King noted.

This was aimless, King thought, watching the Mosquito Girl press her face to the window, watching the scenery go by and people either panic when they saw her or snap a picture, while she obliviously scratched the glass with her forehead spear thing.

"Hero Association HQ, sir!" the poor cabbie shouted. King gave him a very good tip, and the guy sped away once they were out. And got t-boned at the intersection for ignoring a traffic light. Poor guy, King thought.

The S-Rank Hero looked up the steps leading up from the sidewalk to the glass front doors of the HQ. He knew it wasn't a normal building entrance, of course. Metal Knight may not have built this up like he did the A City Central HQ location, but he had his fingers in all the HQs. King actually wondered if the girl would splat like a bug zapper had gone off going through the door.

She rushed ahead and looked in through the door as he made his way up the steps.

Well, nothing so far. Maybe she was fooling the system because no one expected a monster to just open a door when it could smash through it, melt it, or compress to slide under, or some other horror movie bad mojo?

The door opened for him with a ding, a red light turning green. She followed him, and he found a confrontation waiting in the lobby.

"King, I take it you are aware of the social media storm going on?" Sitch asked wearily. The suited middle aged man stood in the lobby with five S-Class heroes. Silverfang, Pig God, Atomic Samurai, Superalloy Darkshine, and Tanktop Master stood behind him.

"That's right. Did you rush here?" King answered them, asking the assembled heroes.

"Actually we were having a meeting on an unrelated matter when Child Emperor informed us of the news," Silverfang said. His eyes slid to the Mosquito Girl, whose smile faded, stepping behind King.

"Hmm, I don't believe in heeding the stuff on that social media. Tons of people with nothing worth saying that won't shut up instead of going out to actually live a life worth living," Atomic Samurai remarked, "But a stopped clock is right twice a day, they say."

"So, are you going to shed some light on the parentage rumors?" Tanktop Master asked.

"No…" King said as Tatsumaki swept out of an elevator across the hall and took a spot behind the other S-Classers, floating in the air, arms crossed.

'Crap, if she fires a blast trying to hit the monster girl, I'll be paste,' King thought.

He had meant to say "No, because there's no relation of any kind. Please take the kid off my hands." Instead, he had just said no, and his face fell into his intense-looking, but actually scared, face while his heart raced as the King Engine.

"Hey, wow now! You should all know better than to drive King into a corner! He's one of the three S-Class heroes you should never get angry!" Superalloy Darkshine said, getting between the parties and waving his arms at the Sitch and the other heroes.

"And I'm one of the others, what's your point?" Tatsumkaki demanded coldly.

"Hmm, are you really willing to take on your fellow S-Class heroes over this?" Silverfang asked.

"It certainly doesn't look good for the Hero Association. We have enough trouble with the Black Market for Mysterious Beings being kept as pets," Sitch remarked.

"…But a brawl between us and King in the middle of a city wouldn't look good either, would it? Besides, way I hear it, isn't the Hero Association two feet dipped into that market?" Atomic Samurai remarked.

"I will not fight King over this issue," Silverfang said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"The Engine intimidating you?" Tatsumaki asked mockingly.

"King must have a compelling reason for his actions. And if the monster child proves a threat, being close to King is one of the best containments I can think of," Silverfang stated, his gaze meeting the Mosquito Girl's as she peeked around King.

Pig God actually stopped eating, holding a rice ball in his hand as he finished swallowing.

"I agree with Silverfang. There must be trust as well as respect between peers. King doesn't seem to be under compulsion, so he must think there is merit here," the obese man stated.

"If there's not a fight here, I'm not inclined to start one over this," Atomic Samurai said.

Tatsumaki looked to Sitch, who after a bit of thought shook his head. The esper sighed in exasperation.

"Well, if you people aren't going to ask me to swat the bug, I'm not doing it on my own time. That meeting and now this drama. This has been a waste of my time," the pint-sized powerhouse grumbled, before glowing green and flying off, the door opening and closing under her power.

And so the moment broke up everyone going their own way though many glancing back warily. Silverfang was the last too depart, staring at King and the monster girl before finally giving a polite farewell and going his own way.

"So, do we head back now?" the Mosquito Girl asked King. King just turned and started walking back toward the entrance.

"Psst, that seemed like a big deal for nothing," she grumbled following him. She's been trembling a bit before, but she seemed to have forgotten that feeling quickly, King noted.

King paused outside the building, wondering just how that went so wrong. Between all those S-Classes, no monster should have walked away, but this bug girl was not just walking away but still clinging to him, practically.

"King. Well, I am sorry to see the rumors were true. Working with the new media as much as I do, I learn to be wary of it as well. So easy for little things or nothing at all to rise to the top of the charts. But it looks like a horrid nugget of truth does lie at the center of this."

The speaker was a very handsome man with blue hair, a white suit, and a feeling of odd charisma about him.

"Pretty," Mosquito Girl remarked with some stars in her eyes. Such was the sight of Sweet Amai Mask.

The word drew the Peak of the A-Class' attention, and his face shifted. Still beautiful, but it made her feel like she was looking at Carnage Kabuto.

She ducked behind King, but still peeking, one eye visible while her wings buzzed.

"It imitates a child. What an ugly tactic. To generate sympathy until it shows its true colors. I am truly disappointed you would fall for this. I see you as an S-Class hero who takes their job and place in society's eye seriously. This lapse, it's most troubling. Though of course, with the media and public latching onto this story, I could see how you may feel unable to detach yourself from this situation even in the face of doubts. A hero most concern themselves with their image, after all," the beautiful man said, his killing intent coiling around the area.

King was rooted to the spot. Finally, someone was talking sense, but he could hardly breath under the intensity of this guy's racism. Granted, it coming from him made him a bit reluctant, but hey, like Atomic Samurai said, a stopped clock is right twice a day, isn't it?

"Just stand aside. I will take care of the bug, and the media. It'll all be taken care of. Just stand aside and we can get back to business as normal," the popular hero said.

King remained rooted to the spot, and seeing the darkening expression on Mask's face, he realized it may be a for real fight about to happen.

Sweet Amai Mask paused as the King Engine drummed to life.

"So, that's the way it is," the A-Class sighed.

'No it isn't,' King thought, meeting the glare, too terrified to even blink.

"So be it for now. A battle would be unseemly here. But know you will regret this," Masjk sighed shaking his head.

'I already regret everything,' King thought.

"Hopefully when next we meet, you will be able to apologize for this oversight," the other pro hero said turning to walk away.

'Come back. Save me. She's crazy. Help!' King silently pleaded.

Then he was gone, and King was alone with the crazy insect girl. Again.

His phone vibrated. A bit startled by something so mundane, he checked the text message.

Saitama.

'Heard about you getting a kid. Never figured you were into bugs. Here's a little something to brighten your day, but no showing the adult entertainment to the kid.'

The message had an image attached, a mosquito on a leaf. The caption identified it as female.

'PS She's naked.'

King had a sudden urge to throw down his phone and break it.

"Dad?"

"Hm," he grunted, still seeing if there was a super delete of some sort for this message. Then one from Genos popped up.

'I PREVIOUSLY FOUGHT A MOSQUITO GIRL. THIS ONE BEARS A RESEMBLANCE BUT ALSO VARIOUS DIVERGENCES ARE APPARENT. DO NOT BRING HER INTO MASTER'S PRESENCE AS SHE MAY BE SEEKING VENGEANCE FOR MASTER KILLING THE LAST ONE.'

'MASTER ALSO WANTS TO KNOW WHAT TAKE-OUT YOU PREFER FOR THE NEXT GAME NIGHT. THOUGH HE IS CONSIDERING COOKING SOMETHING HIMSELF WITH THE GREAT SALE COMING UP. IS YOUR KITCHEN WORTHY OF HIS EFFORTS?'

"Why hasn't anyone told him not to use caps lock in texts?" King wondered.

"Something's hurtling toward us," the monster girl said, tugging on his shirt.

Looking up from his phone, King saw there was someone running down the sidewalk. Expertly dodging the pedestrians but still creating a stir as people needlessly tried to evade him. Quick as a lick, a towering man with curly dark hair and blue eyes wearing a prison uniform was standing in front of them. Puri Puri Prisoner was actually panting a bit in testament to the hurry he must have been in.

"Trouble?" King asked, resigned to some other misfortune dragging him in.

"No, an emergency," the tower of muscle said, straightening up, his eyes narrowing being emphasized by well-kept eyelashes.

King met the look with stoic panic at what else could go wrong today.

"An emergency of cuteness!" The S-Class said, striking a pose.

'What?' King thought.

"When I got word you had taken in an adorable child I just had to come and see with my own eyes! And just look!" Puri Puri said, gesturing to the Mosquito Girl. Who looked at him with wide eyes, confusion evident.

"I never figured you much for the paternal type, King. You always seemed the stoic loner, perhaps with a tragic past. You may not be my type, but I am still swooning for the sheer manliness of taking on a child so many would condemn! Truly, the world's strongest man's greatest strength is not merely physical might. I must have a picture!" Puri said, moving quick and whipping a phone out to take a selfie with the monster child.

Before she could react, he was standing over her, looking her over critically, a look of deep contemplation on his face.

"Have you gone clothes shopping? I would be happy to assist! No offense, but I'm not sure you know what works well for a young girl, and this nudism is just limiting her potential."

"No, we are going home," King declared, the King Engine thundering. The other S-Class hero gulped and took a step back despite himself.

"Ah yes, how thoughtless of me! Just showing up out of nowhere and inserting myself into Daddy-Daughter time. How boorish. I'll just head back, I can't wait to show this picture around."

King grunted in answer as the other man backed off.

"Oh wait, one thing!" the convicted hero said.

"What?!" King snapped.

"What's her name? No one seems to know."

"…Becky," King said, pulling the first woman's name he thought of out of his head. Then wondering where the heck that came from.

"Is that short for Rebecca?"

"…Yes."

"WONDERFUL! I'LL POST IT RIGHT AWAY! IS THIS WHAT REPORTERS FEEL LIKE WHEN THEY GET A BIG SCOOP?!" PPP yelled, already running off, phone in hand.

"…Let's get back before something else happens," King said.

"Can we stop to eat?" Becky asked.

"No, I'm ordering delivery. This day is over," King stated.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_Behold! Yet more madness!_

_Thus King seems stuck with her for now. He fed her and named her, in someone's eyes that means she's his now; maybe?_

_Next time, King uses 'hero work' to catch a break, and will learn the perils that can come of an unattended bored monstergirl named Becky. And Saitama will use a lawn chair, as yet more madness unfolds!_

**Next Chapter: Challenge of the Worthy!: Women of Merit and Ambition, Assemble!**


End file.
